Crossroad Blues
by hintofaspark
Summary: They were standing close enough under the flickering streetlamp, the earth smelly and the sky unforgiving; it had started to pour sometime between silent promises and trembling hands but neither of them had noticed, so when Cas offered him a smile, touched his shoulder slightly and turned, there was really only one thing he could do. My take on what could happen after 12x23.


"I guess this is the goodbye."

It was a profanity: a thunder filled night rumbling under the weight of what was to come; as flickering lights cut into the darkness and the sky bled tears it never meant to give up, they stayed motionless, waiting for the tragedy unveiling before them to take a somewhat unexpected turn.

It would not; they had never relied on Fate that much anyway, having learnt a long time ago the path of a man being carved on his skin is made of scars rather than birthmarks.

The blessing sound of a cry, echoing through the street like prayer in an empty church- a dissacred one, for such tender words could only be meant for a sinner; the moon hung proud and white, brightening whatever little time they had left and moving up an inch-slightly but demanding, reminding them of how the sun wouldn't wait forever to take its rightful place, wouldn't wait for them to find a way. Their lonesome howls, turned beckoning the first time they had laid eyes on each other, painted over the stars: they had this one moment, and not even them were allowed to pry.

"It doesn't need to be".

But its strength lied in desperate hope that'd never been enough.

It still wasn't.

He recognized in his eyes the gentle scorn- _please, don't make this harder_ \- and gently responded – _I don't need to._

"I wanted to give you something" he stuttered on his words, looking down as he reached into his pocket.

The other man looked at him with a tilt of his head, the one he did when he couldn't quite comprehend the situation- like the thousands jokes he didn't get and pop culture references he never understood and that one time Dean had leaned in, whispered something: things he couldn't wrap his head around for lack of knowledge, or lack of faith.

Not in the man in front of him, never him, but in himself: how was he supposed to believe in a greater good (that _he_ was a greater good) when everything kept proving him wrong?

Even then, especially then.

"Here."

It was a tape: he took it and their hands brushed and they stayed there, refusing to let go.

They did.

"I already have one of those."

He did, Dean had made him one sometime ago, after complaining of his taste in music, or lack of thereof. This didn't look any different.

"This is different."

But apparently it was. Cas was still looking at him intently, waiting for the hunter to process.

"I-I am not good with words, emotional retard or whatever it is" he forces out a laugh, but it comes out wrong, and sound more like a constricted choke than anything "but I didn't want anything left unsaid between us, so…"

Castiel looked at him and the blush rising up his cheeks, and smiled.

"Thank you."

And it's heartfelt and genuine and it shines right through his eyes, making Dean releasing the sigh he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"I don't have anything though…" and it was like he had just woken up from a coma and realized he had committed the worst crime imaginable.

"No, no, you didn't have to. You-" it was hard for him, Cas knew, but he also knew he needed to get this out, whatever it was, so he let him be, and just listened "You always say what you think, what you feel. I've always admired that about you, how unafraid you are."

"I am not."  
But Dean just smiled, it came off half-hearted: on his lips tasting like blood and sorrow and everything in between.

The wind blew off some leaves and dirt from the ground, anticipating the cold awakening neither of them was prepared for.

"So, this is it."

Castiel looked around, he could feel it in the air, but had not been brave enough to voice it.

"I mean, it shouldn't be this hard" Dean trying to laugh it off, Cas nervously diverting his gaze "we've seen each other off a dozen times, and they were all more final, right?"

But somehow, they weren't.

"I think I should go."

And there's blue and resignation, green and panic: above all, there's tiredness and the restless recognition that however this ended up, they wouldn't let go.

They were standing close enough under the flickering streetlamp, the earth smelly and the sky unforgiving; it had started to pour sometime between silent promises and trembling hands but neither of them had noticed, so when Cas offered him a smile, touched his shoulder slightly and turned, there was really only one thing he could do: his hand wrapped around the angel's and it only took a moment before they were drowning in each other's arms. Cas's face lost in his neck and Dean's hands digging in his shoulders as they held on so tight not even breath could escape, let alone the other. It suddenly occurred to Dean, this would be the last time he felt that ridiculous coat against his skin, the last time he felt its owner under it.

Such a small detail.

They pulled apart, but still refused to let go, foreheads close enough to be pressed together.

"Dean."

It was so soft, so inviting, but he couldn't, he wouldn't will himself to look at him and know he never would be allowed to again.

"I'm sorry." He had meant for it to be a whisper, but what came out instead was a broken sob.

And again, and again, and again, until he could no longer feel anything but his own voice and the wetness on his skin- maybe rain, maybe something else.

"It's okay."

And Cas was touching his face and holding his face and his gaze and his soul.

He finally allowed himself to gaze back, the hands still clutching his arms moving to his neck, holding even tighter.

"It's okay." He repeated, "I must go."

And whatever it was that touched his lips as he was shaking his head, it was definitely too salty to be rain.

Still locked in the blue, he didn't catch what Cas was saying, but when he woke up mere seconds later, pillow wet and rumpled sheets in hand, ringing in his head there was a goodbye.

 **A/N:**

Hey there! First SPN fanfic here, set sometime after s12 finale. I must admit, I had no idea where this was heading until its very last line. It actually started off as anything but a fanfic but I could not stop Dean and Cas while I was writing, soooo... Well, I hope you guys like it and, if you do (or even if you don't), please drop a line :)

PS: English is not my native language, I'm Italian, so please forgive me for any eventually unforgivable mistakes!


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